


A Tough Road

by xisuthros



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: <3, ALL THE ANGST, Angst and Feels, F/M, Heavy Angst, POV Jemma Simmons, Sorry guys, somewhat happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xisuthros/pseuds/xisuthros
Summary: A little introspective on Jemma after the events of the Framework. (Set before the team gets captured) The anon that requested this wanted angst, so please prepare yourselves





	A Tough Road

Her hands shook.

Jemma let out a breath and gently gripped her knees as she struggled to regain her composure. They were back at the base, albeit temporarily, trying to sift through the rubble and figure out their next move before probably being arrested by the military. The thought of being incarcerated on top of everything that they’d been through during the past few months made her laugh involuntarily. The sound of it echoed slightly in the small conference room Jemma had suddenly decided to escape to. It was as if the universe, if she actually believed in such nonsense, was trying to break them. 

Once Robbie killed AIDA and took the Darkhold to the dimension he was trapped in, the gravity of everything that had occurred during the previous days and weeks threatened to overwhelm her. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the thought of returning to any semblance of a normal life within SHIELD seemed impossible. Mumbling some excuse and trying to ignore the way Fitz’s concerned gaze followed her, Jemma had rushed from the room and found the small conference room. She was proud of the fact that she managed to keep the tears from forming until the doors shut behind her. 

It was like her panic episodes after she got back from Maveth, only worse. Her breath quickened, her hands started shaking, and sweat began to form on her forehead as her heart worked overtime. Jemma closed her eyes and tightened the grip she had on her knees, trying to control her breathing to no avail. It was all too much. AIDA, Radcliffe, LMDs, the Framework, all the horrors she witnessed in that virtual reality, the way Fitz had pressed the muzzle of that cold pistol to her forehead, demanding that she renounce her love for him...

The sight of her hand plunging a knife into Fitz’s neck and watching the light leave his eyes...

It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him. It wasn't him. A small gasp escaped Jemma brought her hands to her head, trying willing the image out of her mind. Appearing after it; the memory of the man she loved callously shooting an innocent woman in cold blood. It wasn't him. It wasn't him. It wasn't him. The way Fitz’s eyes radiated fury and pure, unadulterated hatred as he shouted at her to say she meant nothing to him, all the while pressing a gun to her head. It wasn’t him! She pleaded with her mind, begging it to stop. It wasn't him! IT WASN’T HIM!

A small sob erupted from her throat as the tears rushed down her cheeks. Jemma brought her knees to her chest, the sounds of her grief echoing in the small room. The worst memory came suddenly before she could deny it, filling her mind’s eye like some sick projection. The small moment she had while listening to Fitz and AIDA in the holding cells. That tiny, minuscule moment that seemed to last forever in her world. The moment Fitz declared, in a voice that sounded every bit as broken as she felt, that the relationship he shared with her was dead. Though he asserted moments later that he was still in love with her, the blunt statement had struck her to the bone.

Jemma was no fool. She knew that all of them had gone through a traumatic experience that would likely take many years to heal from, if ever. She knew deep down that Fitz blames himself for all the horror that had taken place in the Framework, no matter who tried to tell him otherwise. She knew that it was that same guilt that led him to think that things between them were irreparable. But that moment, the split instant Jemma thought she had truly lost him, was worse than any amount of torture or any length of time in the Framework. She wished for death in that moment, numb to the idea that after everything they had gone through together, after all the blood, sweat, and tears she went through to bring him and the team back, it was all for her to lose him - yet again. 

Growing up, Jemma was taught by her mother to never let herself be defined by anyone else, least of all a man. And for the most part, she had honored that lesson. But Fitz was different. From the first moment they worked together at the Academy, she knew that her life would never be the same. Suddenly, they were no longer Agents Fitz and Simmons. It was Agents Fitzsimmons. Their minds worked together effortlessly, like a well-oiled machine. Their personalities clashed occasionally, but it was the kind of controlled chaos that inspired...well, inspiration. They orbited each other for years in perfect tandem, a force to be reckoned by experts in any field. Their friendship knew no bounds either; by the end of their first year, Jemma felt like she knew everything about Fitz, and he about her. Others joked about them being joined telepathically, but even that seemed like a little less than their bond. If Jemma believed in the idea of soulmates, she would declare Fitz was her’s. 

The thought of losing that, even for a moment, was like someone ripping away that part of herself. He was as much a part of her as she was to him, and the idea that it was not just anyone, but his creation and subsequent abuser that was taking him away was simply unbearable. Jemma knew - or at least hoped - that they will work through these issues in time, but she was finding that the interim was rather difficult to bear. Resting her head on the wall behind her, Jemma wiped the tears from her face as her breathing finally started to stabilize. 

She knew without a doubt that it would take a number of weeks, possibly months to be able to look at Fitz without thinking of that other version of him, or even of the LMD Fitz that tried to kill her; the one she had been forced to kill. Jemma swallowed, the memory of that still too fresh. For once, she welcomed the idea of going to a psychiatrist and wondered if the prison they were likely headed towards offered those services. Probably not, she reasoned. The team was likely to spend a long time in custody. With SHIELD all but destroyed and all the evidence of the havoc created by the Framework and the LMDs pointing at them, it would almost be a miracle if they weren't shot on sight. 

The sound of soft tapping at the door nearly made her jump and reach for a sharp piece of debris, a habit that she still retained from her time on Maveth. Jemma’s heart ached when she heard the Fitz’s careful voice on the other side. 

“Jemma?” He called softly. “Jemma, I’m sorry, but we have to leave now.” His tone was a strange mixture of shame and concern, with a tinge of fear. She realized with a pang that he was likely afraid of the man he remembered being in the Framework. 

They would get through this, she reasoned. They had to. After all they’ve been through, after all that had come between them, Jemma refused to let this be the thing that tore them apart for good. She loved him, whatever kind of man he was after all the horror they had just endured. If Jemma knew anything at all, it was the man standing on the other side of the door, with his hands likely together and a concerned look on his face, had the purest heart of anyone she had ever met. No matter what evil came next, no matter if they were pulled apart during their time in prison, she knew that they would get through it, together. 

It was that thought that finally managed to push all the horrible memories out of her head. Standing up gingerly, still feeling slightly dazed from the fight a few hours ago, Jemma slowly walked over to the door and opened it to reveal Fitz standing there, just as she had pictured him in her mind. She smiled inwardly that despite everything, she still knew him. Her eyes found his trying to glance at anywhere other than her face, likely still thinking she wouldn't want to have anything to do with him. Jemma tried to convey all the love and resolve in her own eyes as she nodded and placed a tender hand on his arm. 

“Lead on, Fitz.” She whispered with a small smile. His eyes focused intently on hers for a moment, as if finally hearing what she was trying to say. Fitz’s throat contracted as he swallowed and shifted his stance. After a moment, he placed his other hand over hers, like when the base had first been captured, in a time that seemed so long ago now. His eyes were still red and raw, but Jemma saw within them what she was searching for:

Hope.

Sliding her fingers in between his, the pair began slowly walking down the small hallways leading to what was left of the hangar doors, their hearts just a little lighter than before.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little rusty with my writing since I've been out of college for a while now. Sorry for any errors, but I hope you guys like this! :')


End file.
